Poison
by control of chaos
Summary: Fourth in the Safehouse arc. SCORPIA is out for revenge again, but things don't always go as planned when Alex is involved.
1. Chapter 1

Part one of _Poison_. This is the fourth in my _Safehouse_ arc (sorry for the shortness in advance!) and I hope you enjoy…because I am running from the reviewers commanding me to update _Those Who Wander_. Run away! (And R&R) ~ SamayouTamashi

* * *

Somewhere in the south of France, a small café sat along a boring stretch of road. It wasn't visited much anymore, but it had been building up a small reputation for itself for that very reason.

It was for that same reason, in fact, that a blond teenager had gotten out of his taxi to sit in a small booth an hour ago.

Alex nervously tapped his foot against the tiled floor, watching all the doors from his vantage point in the café's corner booth. In front of him was a cup of once-steaming tea. It hadn't been touched since the tiny blond waitress set it in front of him. Ripples flickered through the deep reddish-brown liquid as he sent pulses through the table with his incessant tapping.

The small silver bell hung above the café main door made a tinny clatter as Ben stepped into the small coffee shop. He spoke briefly to the waitress, who pointed back at Alex. He thanked her politely before going to his partner's table. Raising an eyebrow as he quickly noted the way he was fiddling with his watch, the thin white tablecloth and the longest strands of his hair, as well as the rapid tapping, Ben asked, "What has you so tense?"

"SCORPIA." The unusually nervous behavior was replaced by a two-part mix of surety and confusion*. "It would appear that since the recent death of Zeljan Kurst by his sudden collapse of seizures and strangely natural death, the remaining board has been making some major changes in their work."

"Such as?"

"Such as bowing down to a nameless competitor, who is by far second to them in both experience and value."

Ben leaned forward on his elbows, messing with a plastic straw lying by his elbow. "Why would they do that? They would never sink so low as to merge with a rival, even if their very lives were on the line. Their pride conquers everything they do, even going beyond logic at times."

"And that is what has me worried, Ben. This rival might not have the skill and superior firepower that SCORPIA does, but what they do have is three times the money SCORPIA had in their golden days based on the peeks into the few accounts I could access connected to them."

As the waitress came past, she carried a tray with two steaming cups of tea. "On the house, gentlemen. The ladies couldn't bear those sad faces of yours and paid for this themselves." She took Alex's now-cold cup away while Ben murmured a "thanks" in her direction. It was going to take more than tea to fix this up, however.

Alex sipped at his warm tea, running a hand through his hair. "I have no…well, _few _links inside this second-rate rival of theirs and so little information with no names whatsoever. I've had months to build up a network within SCORPIA, but this new company? Not even a week."

"I take it there's some kind of work in this for me?"

A nod. "If my sources are correct, then they'll need at least five new chemical engineers for some new project. I'll get "résumés" leaked on to the Internet and start making a new identity from scratch with help from Blunt. Yours wasn't so hard. By next Wednesday, I can get you on their radar, maybe even with a signed job agreement. Lucas and Mira are coming as well. They volunteered, saying that their covers from Nigeria were never broken and are nearly identical to what this rival company is looking for." He drained the last of his tea and set it lightly on the table in front of him, rubbing the edges of the ceramic cup with a single finger.

"I'll need to have some study time, then. Engineering in general practice is an easy cover as long as you have math up to Calculus and basic physics under your belt. Specialties aren't so easy, because the questions are always so damned picky." Ben didn't normally drink tea, but it smelled nice. "Is the tea good?"

"Little bitter, but yeah."

The spy took a small sip just as a flash of panic crossed his partner's face. "What?"

Alex stepped out of the booth, not answering the question, to peek back at the waitress who'd served the tea to them. "She's SCORPIA," he said calmly with his hand slowly trailing to the Sig holstered by his waist, "yet she hasn't pulled out a gun. So what's the…?" he trailed off, remembering the tea cups on the table. "_Merde_. Don't drink any more tea and call up MI6. I don't know what she put in our drin-" Ben stood quickly as his partner collapsed to the floor, shaking uncontrollably and breathing labored. He pulled his gun out, only to find that the smirking waitress was gone.

The spy knelt down by Alex to press a hand against his throat to measure the pulse. "Way too fast," he muttered, whipping out his phone, he dialed in a direct link to Blunt's office. He could distinctly feel his own heart racing and a fever setting in as the poison began to work its way through his system as well. "I need help _now_!"

* * *

A/N: I have _no_ idea where this is going, but I believe it will be another 3-part story. This one might be four parts with the ṻber-short prologue though… Sorry about that.

* Stir carefully, shake hard and enjoy the energy burst. Watch for some common side effects: nervous twitching, insomnia, depression, tendencies towards violence, and unbacked suspicion towards just about everyone, are among the most common. Be careful around weapons, for the sake of those around you.


	2. Chapter 2

Part two of _Poison_. Worry not, for this one is longer. Much longer... *evil laughter* ~ SamayouTamashi

* * *

By the time Snake and Eagle arrived, just seconds before the ambulance, Ben was so unsteady that he could no longer stand on his own. Alex had gone into cardiac arrest, and his partner was doing his best to keep him breathing at the very least.

The two soldiers stayed frozen in the doorway as the paramedics pushed past them, using the defibrillator paddles to restart the teenager's heart and carried Ben out on a stretcher.

Snake gripped the spy's hand as he passed. "What happened?"

"We were caught by surprise. Poison in the tea," he shakily pointed at the two cups abandoned in their booth. Snake noticed with concern that the man's eyes were somewhat glazed, and just standing this close he could feel the feverish heat emanating from him. "I got lucky. Alex didn't." He let go of the hand as Ben fell back against the stretcher and he was packed into the back of the ambulance. Picking up on some of the French, he could determine that Alex would be flown out, due to his rapidly worsening condition. Rushing back indoors, he rejoined Eagle by the wall of the café. An oxygen tube was just being taped down into the teenager's throat as the paramedic finished stabilizing his heart rate at a feeble, but steady, speed.

"They're sending the tea to the local lab to analyze the poison mixed into it," Eagle spoke up. "An antidote should be on it's way within a week at the most."

"You know French?"

"Je suis né de langue français* My father's side was English and my mother's family is native to France, so I grew up learning both languages."

"Then what have the paramedics been saying about their conditions?"

"Ben should be fine. Paul and Roberts, I believe their names were, said that the fever and shaking seem to be the worst of it."

"And Alex?"

Eagle's eyes dropped to inspect his boots. "They think it's a miracle if he lasts the night alone."

"He will," Snake confidently assured him. "Alex always comes through. The real question," he spoke softly, trying to lighten the mood, "is who should get to inform Wolf."

"Somehow, even down in Kabul**, I have the feeling he already knows," he chuckled darkly.

"Oh joy, he can get target practice before he meets up with us."

* * *

In Tolouse, France was a large and well-known*** hospital, the Hốpital de la Fitzgerald. Much as St. Dominics in England had their connections to MI6, Fitzgerald had private rooms reserved for the DGSE. Many of the physicians and staff had no idea of this connection, nor the importance of the patients they were harboring. The two spies were sharing their own ward on the top floor, as one of the French foreign intelligence men had been their host in the country, and the first responder on the scene. He had left to inform both MI6 and the DGSE of the assassination attempt, and been swearing many of the nurses who witnessed the two patients being rushed in to secrecy. Currently, they were signing the stacks of papers.

Snake was outside pacing the hallway as he called S-Unit to explain the sudden departure of half their team. The short mission had been carried out in record time, but Cougar, the team leader, had worried about them when they requested an indeterminate amount of leave. Not that the medic couldn't understand. Two of S-Unit had been crippled by a landmine blast only a month prior, one still in critical condition and looking worse each day.

While Cougar could growl and prowl around like the cat he was named for, he was compassionate towards the health of one's team. Snake had mentioned that two former members were in trouble, and he had signed off their forms as fast as he could find the pen.

When Ben stirred, Eagle was seated in a plastic chair by the door, gun laid across his lap. The spy gripped the rail beside his bed to gingerly pull himself up as the SAS man looked over, an eyebrow raised. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Remember that Snake should be back in a second."

Recalling Snake's tendency to secure unruly patients to their beds, Ben quickly laid back down. "Forgot about that. Wait, what are you two doing in France?"

"Falcon had some issues with his ankle, the one he got all shot up a couple months back. Apparently, one of the bones had some kind of crack that didn't heal right, so he's on leave until all the surgery and rehab is finished."

"And…you two are in France?"

"The leave got tiring, so all of us signed up for teams in need of temporary members. S-Unit lost two of theirs to some nasty injuries, so we hooked up for a short mission here. X-Unit needed someone to cover them down in Afghanistan, between all the problems they've been having with local groups, and Wolf figured it would give him a chance to shoot some things."

"Sounds like you've been busy."

"From the looks of it, I'm not the only one. Who'd you screw over this time?"

Ben waved the hand not hooked up to the heart monitor and IV line. "It was all in the blueprint stages, I swear. There were four of us in on the project, but only Alex had…has the full picture," he stuttered over his verb tenses, reminding himself that his partner was still living. "Nothing could have gotten out, because no one _knew_ anything."

"So someone you irritated previously then."

"The waitress in the café was SCORPIA."

"You think they're _still_ out for blood?"

With a shrug, Ben said, "Why wouldn't they? Alex has only mutilated their company multiple times, killed most of their board of directors, and completely driven off their clientele." As he struggled not to itch at the IV line in his arm, he sat partially up again. "How is he?"

"He's…stable."

The spy supported himself on his elbow as he turned to look over at the bed beside him. Alex had been covered in blankets to regulate his temperature and tubes trailed through his mouth and arms, nourishing and breathing for him. His face was too pale, but looking past everything else, he seemed to just be sleeping. The lines of stress that typically criss-crossed his forehead were gone, and with his eyes closed, he didn't look nearly as old as he acted. Asleep, he looked like the teenager he was.

"The paramedics stabilized his breathing by pumping oxygen into his lungs, and his heart is beating on its own. It's just…the rest of him was shut down by the poison. Dr. Roux assures us he isn't comatose yet, but he doesn't think…you know."

Ben fell back against the pillows. "Despite what the doctors say, Alex will make it. He always joked about how we would attend his funeral together—once he graduates, you understand—and I know he wouldn't make me go alone."

"Snake says the same thing." The quick footsteps were evident as they approached. "Well, speak of the devil…"

Snake entered the room, his own gun also clearly in view attached to his waist. "How do you feel?" he instantly honed on to Ben's alert state.

"Fine, fine. Little headache and sorta dizzy, but just small things."

"Typical after-effects of a high fever." Entering full medic mode, he whipped a thermometer from the table beside the bed and stuck it in his mouth. When it buzzed, Snake relaxed. "Still a bit high, but that's to be expected. Either way, the antidote should be finished soon."

"When?"

"Two days. Originally it was supposed to be a week, but one of the researchers hit a lucky break in the chemical compound. If we're lucky, it might be here by tomorrow night."

"Will that be fast enough?" The spy didn't even think of sitting up with Snake standing right in front of him, but the question inside his question was evident enough.

"It will have to be. There's no way that it can get here any faster."

Running a hand through his hair, Ben closed his eyes and sighed. "Is there anything else they can do, to bring up his chances?"

"Yes," Snake answered firmly, taking a quick glance towards the other bed before continuing. "If he goes comatose, it will be because he's retreated into himself. As long as his mind continues to function, the chances of him holding on until the antidote gets here will increase."

"And how do we do anything?" Eagle asked.

"Talk. The sound of familiar voices will hold his focus here. More voices, means more memories to retain and greater amounts of focus on the here and now."

A knock resounded on the closed door, and even Ben found himself scrambling for his gun. "Don't freak us out like that!" Eagle gasped as Wolf walked in.

"What? I even knocked before opening the door."

"Yeah, but still!"

Wolf looked between his two teammates and the two former ones. "Don't tell me that you two haven't slept a wink."

"Because they probably haven't been," Ben muttered.

"Huh. Well there happens to be an empty room right next door." His glare at them finished the sentence, and the two scurried off to catch up on the sleep they had ignored for too long. "So, you look like hell frozen over," he noted.

"Thanks for the complements, but please don't try so hard."

His previous unit leader snorted disdainfully. "How are you holding up?"

"Ask me again once the antidote comes in. Until then, all I can do is worry."

"He looks bad, but the chances always seem to be against him and he manages it every time."

Wolf settled into Eagle's abandoned chair, a stack of papers making its way on to his lap. "Falcon has his doctor's permission to return to duty within the next week or two. We're going to be heading back to BB for a refresher course before starting up work again."

"Where are you being shipped?"

"No word yet, but I'd bet my next paycheck that it's Kabul. We've already lost two whole units over there, and Redbird, X-Unit's leader, says his unit is taking their leave within the next month."

"Some days, I'm glad I'm a spy now," Ben confessed wryly, though his eyes betrayed the lie.

"Yeah, despite the monthly assassination attempts on you two. Personally, I think you are both insane."

"In my job, it's probably a prerequisite."

Reaching for the pen tucked in his jacket, Wolf remembered the other things he'd brought along. "Oh yeah, I totally forgot about these." He pulled a handful of envelopes from the expansive pocket. "Some guy sitting next to me on my connecting flight handed these to me as we were getting off. Said they were coming through someone named Smithers and needed to get to Alex. Naturally, I assumed with the sneaky roundabout method that he was talking about Cub."

Ben narrowed his eyes. "Anyone could find those names."

"He _also_ said that you would assume the worst, so he told me to mention the codename Desert Rose****."

"Aww hell. I bet he had on dark glasses and a neat suit and his hair was a sort of reddish-black."

"Exactly…you know him then?"

"One of my closer co-workers, and the only one who'd think of using Desert Rose as a password." The spy rolled his eyes, and nodded and the handful of envelopes. "He wouldn't send anything our way that hadn't been checked over by the best. They're safe."

Wolf stood to set the small stack on the bedside table next to where Alex laid. "I really do hope he makes it," the soldier sighed. "Missions would be so much more boring, and I can't call anyone else 'princess' and get such a humorous reaction."

"Was it my imagination, or did his fingers just twitch?" Ben asked, sitting up slowly to peer across the room. "I swear I just saw him move."

"Huh. Maybe Sleeping Beauty here wants to communicate with hand signals."

"There it was again! When you called him Sleeping Beauty, his fingers moved."

Wolf rubbed his chin. "Bet he still doesn't like being called princess." The two laughed as the digits on his right hand seemed to momentarily curl up before quickly relaxing again.

"I do believe that he just tried to punch your head off, Wolf."

"I might need to consider leaving before he gets back enough of his strength, for fear of a considerably shortened lifespan."

After a few minutes of idle conversation, Ben felt his eyelids droop and the blankets felt more heavenly than they had before.

* * *

The poison's second phase had begun.

Upon falling fast asleep, Ben's fever had skyrocketed back up. Sweat broke out across his forehead and he became increasingly delirious, unable to recognize his visitors or recall where he was. When the fever wasn't messing with his mind, he asked constantly for water, unable to sate his thirst.

Alex hadn't escaped the worsening toxin either. While the fever seemed to cool down as drugs were pumped through his veins, his heart continued to stutter and shut down about every four hours as if it were on a schedule. Instead of burning up, he was too cold. It didn't matter how many blankets were piled on to him, he continued to shiver and pale to a dangerous degree. His breathing was steady, but it was evident that without the oxygen pump, he would have stopped breathing altogether hours ago.

Snake reported to K-Unit that the antidote was en route the following afternoon. What he kept from them, were the concerns he shared with the doctor. Even if the medicine came fast enough to beat the poison's fatal side effects, the experimental drug had never been tested. There had been no time. It was just as likely that it would kill them as it would help fight off the toxin. He decided to keep this information from his already worried team.

Wolf spent the time burning off steam in the hallway, pacing until the rest of K-Unit thought he was going to erode the tiles down to the bare concrete. Snake had left another message for Falcon, for him to get once he remembered that he had a cell phone, that their stay at the Hốpital de la Fitzgerald might last longer than he had originally thought. "You might want to come down soon," he added to the voicemail as an after-thought. "Fox and Cub aren't doing so good and Eagle is going to drive all of us crazy with his incessant humming."

He pressed the button to end the call and held the cold plastic against his forehead. With Eagle resting on one of the hospital beds in the next room over and Wolf still wearing holes in the floor, the only sound in the room was that of the machines counting heartbeats and unsteady breaths.

A quiet cough alerted him to Ben re-entering reality. "Water," he rasped.

Snake helped him with the straw and held the cup steady. When the spy leaned back, he put it back on the table.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" Ben asked quietly, surprising Snake with the lucidity of his question.

"The antidote is only an hour away. You just have to make it that long and we'll fix you two up." But Ben was aware of the worry evident in the medic's voice.

"Sure we will. We always get through these things," he said softly before succumbing back into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The antidote came just over an hour later as Snake had predicted. A pair of doctors brought the box of vials up through the secondary elevator—a well-kept secret that was one of only two ways to the third floor and resided behind false walls in the basement. Dr. Roux replaced the IV bags with the new drips, along with a prick to each of his patients' necks with the antidote.

K-Unit waited patiently (not) in the hallway chairs. A nearly-silent ding of the elevator alerted them to a new arrival, who walked somewhat unsteadily on a pair of silver crutches.

"Hey, did you miss me?"

Eagle almost hugged him before Falcon shot him a warning look, reminding the hyper soldier of his teammate's temporary handicap. "We missed you so much that we ran off to France looking for some fun!"

"I can imagine. And these poor guys had to handle you all on their own."

"We deserve medals for bravery and going beyond the call of duty," Wolf piped up in agreement.

"Back to the point," Snake reminded them, "you need to visit Fox and Cub. They aren't doing so well."

"Don't tell me they went off on a huge adventure without even asking me to tag along," Falcon complained.

"They didn't get that far. SCORPIA got to them first."

Falcon visibly paled. "How close did they get?"

"Let's just say that they aren't out of critical yet," Wolf replied grimly, "and it still isn't looking good for them."

Snake knocked on the door, and after a moment, a voice granted them entry.

To the immense shock of K-Unit, Dr. Roux was handing a cup of water to an alert and smiling Ben as Snake opened the door. "Falcon! I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me."

Falcon was looking increasingly confused as he limped to settle in one of the chairs, laying his crutches on the floor. "But…you…I thought…"

"Evidently I was a little off in my diagnosis," Wolf remarked with an amused, and relieved, shake of his head.

"The antidote worked even faster than originally planned," Dr. Roux answered the questions swirling around in their heads in his smooth accent. "Almost instantly, the toxin seems to have been completely flushed out. Monsieur Rider will have a longer wait, but Monsieur Daniels should be up and checked out by tomorrow morning."

Alex was still attached to the oxygen tube, but he was already a healthier shade and the shivering and shaking had stopped entirely.

"Is he still at risk for slipping into a coma?" Snake asked.

"Oui, but at this rate, his chances are two hundred percent better than when he arrived."

As the doctor left the room, Falcon laughed half-heartedly, "When you guys get in trouble, you don't get it by halves."

"Just imagine how _I_ feel about this," the spy retorted. "I'm going to have a hospital phobia by the time I leave."

K-Unit had a good laugh, and Ben demanded that someone had to bring him food. "I can't eat anymore of this mush. It reminds me of the cafeteria food in school. And speaking of which," he frowned, "princess is going to have some serious schoolwork to make up for this hospital visit."

Eagle actually jumped when a choking cough announced the last group member's arrival to the conversation. Snake rushed over to pull the oxygen tube from a now-breathing Alex's throat. "If *cough* you *cough* call me *cough cough* _that_ again *cough*, I am going to be *cough* forced to throw your ass out the nearest window," he rasped between hacking coughs.

"And good afternoon to you too, Alex," Ben said in a much too cheery voice.

Before Alex found his voice again, Eagle nearly tackled him in a bear hug. "Don't scare us like that again, Cub!" he sobbed, as the teenager registered what exactly what going on. Only then did he realize that they had visitors.

"Uh, when did all of you get here?"

"Excepting Falcon, we've been here the entire time," Wolf answered, crossing his arms as if he wasn't dancing for joy in his mind.

"Don't tell me I've been out the whole day."

"Try a whole _three_ days," Snake corrected. "They only just now got the antidote."

Alex sighed, managing to extricate himself from the overly emotional Eagle. "I hope I can get a doctor's note for this," he muttered to their amusement.

"You almost _died_," Falcon spluttered, "and you're worried about a _doctor's note_?"

"Dying won't get me a month of detention," came the dry response.

"I can't even tell if you're serious anymore." Ben shook his head as he grabbed the cup of water.

"Not to mention that I'll be days behind on the paperwork for the infiltration, and Lucas wanted a cost estimate for filing purposes. I should probably get started on that." He made a move to pull the IV from his arm before he noticed Snake's intense glare.

"If you so much as try to _move _much less attempt to take that IV line out, so help me God I will tie you down to that bed and knock you back into a coma faster than you can possibly imagine."

Alex blinked, but easily complied. Assassinations and bloodthirsty megalomaniacs were one thing. Impending death by an irked medic was on a whole other level of insanity that he, wisely, didn't dare cross into. "I'm going to be in bed for a long time, aren't I."

Snake's teammates nodded, having also been on his end of the line. "Oh yeah," Wolf nodded gravely, as Falcon said, "You might be out in a month if he has his way."

Fox was looking worried also. "I can get back to work though, right? I mean, my poisoning wasn't as bad..."

He trailed off as the medic's glare of doom turned to focus on the older spy. "Do I need to warn you too?"

"N-no," he squeaked, thoroughly intimidated by the eyes burning holes through his head.

"Good."

Alex gave a pitiful look to Wolf. "I have no idea how you manage both Eagle, Falcon and Snake at the same time and still stay sane."

"You have no idea how much we deserve a raise."

"Not really, but I think I'm starting to get the idea."

* * *

A/N: So sorry about the wait between my tiny first chapter and mega-long second one, but this thing called _school_ got in my way. Grr…

Yes, this one seems to speed through the events really really fast, but I didn't have the time to make it more descriptive, as I usually do. Also, there is a _**third**_ part coming out. It won't be a sequel, per say, because I don't think this one will be over with in just three chapters. I'm thinking four as of right now.

While I was doing my research, I discovered that Kandahar (in Afghanistan), where my cousin Zachary is stationed right now, has also been a recent base for SAS troops. Creepy…

* Rough translation based on my first-year French class: _I was born speaking French._ (Recently corrected by the wonderful _jamester56_.)

** According to my sources, as of December, Kabul was the area of Afghanistan to see the most recent fighting. While it consists of mostly NATO troops, the SAS have been working in nearby areas thus this isn't a huge stretch. In fact, Afghanistan has already claimed 82 of their members, either to serious injuries leaving them unable to fight (70) or killed in the line of duty (12). This is a _sixth _of their full capacity and the worst losses in over sixty years. _{Just wanted to put that in since I'm writing about them and feel they should be recognized and honored for the work they do in the real world.}_

*** I couldn't find anything, so this place is not real. The Fitzgerald is also a name I pulled out of thin air, so it doesn't have any connections at all to any real people/places.

**** What could this _possibly_ refer to? *wink*


	3. Chapter 3

Part three of _Poison_. About the hiatus…yeah, I was busy with a test in Pre-Calculus. It's hard taking the pre-requisite at the same time as Trigonometry, but I have everything back in place. Perfect scores all around! On to the story, and please don't grab those pitchforks...uh oh. *runs away screaming* ~ SamayouTamashi

* * *

"Ben, why do you always get to drive?"

"Because you don't have a driver's license yet, and you shoot better."

"We're in Bangkok. I doubt they would care if I was driving the motorcycle."

"Smithers gave you your own gadgets. I can't help if mine are more awesome than yours." He took his eyes momentarily off the road to smirk at a pouting Alex. "At least they gave you a gun, for once."

The spy took the new weapon he had received from the gadgetmaker from its holster on his leg. Smithers said he had handcrafted the gun, and it was evident in the painstakingly sleek black curves and intricate make. The metal coating the outside could repel bullets if he held the gun up fast enough to block, and the trigger was both fingerprint sensitive and fired if he gave the slightest twitch, allowing for a faster reaction time. However what made it more special than the Sig or Colt he also carried, was its capability of shooting nearly any caliber bullet, from a seventeen to even a fifty*.

"True, but Blunt and Smithers still treat me like I don't know what I'm doing some days."

A round of gunfire went over their heads, barely even coming close. Alex raised an eyebrow and fired back. "Speaking of people who underestimate me, were they even aiming at us? Who misses by _two feet_?"

Ben snorted. "People who aren't you. It's hard to believe, but some people can't afford sharp shooters."

"Yeah well even if SCORPIA can't find the money for better assassins, they shouldn't embarrass themselves _this_ badly."

"You hurt my feelings, Alex. Before I joined up with MI6, I had a worse aim than that guy on our tail."

"How in hell did you make it into SAS with shots as bad as that?"

"Good looks," he grinned to an answering laugh.

"I sincerely doubt that. Get your eyes back on the road!" the teen leaned over his shoulder to avoid hitting a car. "I could drive better than you," he complained.

"But MI6 doesn't know that, thus them giving me the bike."

Alex swung back around on the back of the motorcycle, one hand holding to the side of the seat to steady the heavy recoil on Smithers' gun, jokingly nicknamed the Raven by Ben**. With three sequential shots, two of the cars following them were taken out, bursting into flames as they collided violently with each other.

"And here I thought that you couldn't get fires like that unless you were in Hollywood," he thought outloud. He heard a short click and pushed Ben's head down moments before the shot grazed his hand, right where his partner's head had been.

As the motorcycle brushed the sidewalk, Ben got it back on the road. "You could at least warn me before you pull any stunts like that."

"Where would be the fun in that?" The teenage spy crossed his arms over his chest. "Then here's a forewarning. In five seconds, I'm going to leap off the bike, grab the side of the truck about to intersect our path and get a better shot to finish off the snipers in those two buildings. Ten seconds after that, I'll jump back on and hope you don't kill us both."

This sort of thing happened much too often to surprise Ben at this point, but he couldn't help but say, "Wha-?"

Alex stood on the backseat of the bike on 'four' and leapt for the passing delivery truck by the end of 'five'. With the Raven, he shot the five assassins scattered about the sidewalks and cars, and with the Sig he pulled from his opposite hip, he took down the two snipers. While the Raven was an incredible gun for the instinctive shooting SCORPIA had taught him on Malagosto, the recoil was too difficult to modify for shots that required long-distance aims.

Hitting the roof of the truck, he scouted the surrounding streets as fast as he could, mentally counting down from ten. He almost shot at a flash of silver before realizing it was someone's necklace. The second one was the real case, however, and he took out another car trying to subtly follow Ben.

At 'seven' he holstered the Raven, crouching down to steady himself as the wind threatened to push him off his precarious perch.

Halfway through 'five' he had slipped two smoke grenades from his belt.

Tracking his partner's progress to the opposite side of the truck, he pulled both pins on 'four,' leaving them armed by 'three.'

When the motorcycle was just at the edge of jumping range on 'one,' he threw the grenades to either side and abandoned the delivery truck, grabbing Ben's shoulder as he landed. Smoke erupted from the grenades, covering their escape.

"See," Ben started as if he had never stopped talking, "if you were the driver, you wouldn't be able to pull off these stunts."

"Or I'd just do them differently," he countered.

"…Okay, I have to admit that you'd probably manage to figure something out, but that's not the point. What's the point of you having a partner if I just sit around watching the fireworks?"

Alex paused to think this over as he reloaded the Raven and Sig. "You have a point."

"Exactly! You do all the espionage and shooting stuff, so all I have left is being the driver. I might as well get an awesome getaway vehicle if that's my job anyway."

The teenage spy spun back around to watch the smoke, waiting for someone to figure out where they had gone. He hesitated before saying, "You heard about the news in MI6, right?"

"No, what news?"

"Well, Blunt might be retiring."

Ben spluttered, keeping his eyes on the road by sheer will and concentration. "I'm sorry. He _what_?"

Shifting his grip on the Raven, he saw his hand shivering despite the warmth of the night. "I haven't talked with Blunt in awhile, but there were some rumors I heard through his receptionist. She mentioned that his behavior had been weird, looking at pictures of his kids and the like with a sort of sad expression."

"He can't retire until you're the legal age, though. That means he still has another year and a half at the very least. You wouldn't be able to replace him, and isn't that the point of making you his deputy head?"

"I know. That's why I was checking up on it." His gaze traveled along the now empty street before he laughed. "It's probably just rumors. Besides, I'm only sixteen. He wouldn't have me take over MI6 this early."

"Yeah," Ben agreed, though looking back and shaking his head. Something felt off about this whole conversation. "So where do we head to now?"

"There's a small port just south of here. A shipment should be shipping to France, and from there we'll catch a ride to London."

"Oh no. Not another month-long boat ride."

Alex grimaced to himself also, imitating his partner. "Yeah. _Another_ one."

"You told me the last time we took a ship that we wouldn't be having any repeats. You _promised_."

"Well, I meant it but there were some last-minute problems. Unless you wanted to hitchhike back, this was the only other option. Personally, I haven't wanted to go that route since the thing with the Russian mafia***. At least we'll only be on the ship for three weeks."

"Wolf was right," he sighed. "Maybe I should have stuck with the SAS."

"Yes, because they get to sit in the middle of the desert for months at a time," Alex sighed.

"True but at least they don't share have to eat sea rations for two straight weeks and worry about being discovered."

"Haven't we gone through this before?"

"Yeah. So?"

"I give up. Keep your eyes on the road. Company's coming." The shakes in his hand stopped as he aimed at the first target emerging from the fading smoke screen. "Damn, I thought that smoke would last longer."

"If there wasn't so much wind, it might have. We should be lucky it lasted as long as it did."

"That's because I set out two of them to counter that wind you mentioned."

"Oh. Then maybe not." He happened to glance up as he saw an unusual shadow. "Uh, did they have a helicopter last time you looked?"

"I don't think they had one, per say, but they could've gotten one..." he trailed off as he caught on. "Well damn. And here they were supposed to be low on money. Any chance that Smithers built something into the bike, 'cause I don't have any fifty calibers on me."

"Well he did say the handles were something special. Maybe there's something in here." Ben fiddled with the plastic covering the metal, looking for anything out of place.

"Hey Ben, could you hit the brakes for a second?"

"Sure, why?"

"Let's just say you should do it really fast."

Needless to say, he slammed down on them. Artillery rounds blasted the ground in front of them. "I would swear that you're psychic if you hadn't already told me repeatedly that you weren't."

"I don't need to be psychic to tell you that the copter is going to swing back around momentarily," Alex replied. "And twist the handles up. No one would look in the bottom of them, so that's where Smithers would install his gadgets.

Ben followed his instructions, revealing three switches and two small buttons, small lights showing a red light on both sides with a thin clear cover keeping anything from being hit accidentally. "Um, you want to tell me what each of these does too?"

The spy shrugged. "It would be one of the buttons. How many buttons?"

"Two."

He rubbed his free hand against his forehead. "Is there a light beside one of them?"

"Yeah. It's blinking red at me."

"Good. Hit the other one. The new ground to air rounds should be heat seeking, so aim doesn't necessarily matter."

"How do you know its ground to air?"

"I can shoot everything else. Those are the only rounds you'd need."

He flicked the button, covering his eyes as the resulting blast lit up the sky. "Ooo pretty. That was cool. I should be the driver more often."

Alex snorted. "Switch on the other button. Knowing Smithers, he installed it as a tracking device. If they find us before we get to the docks, we might get a free and easy ride home."

"I'm going to send him some flowers and a card when we get back. Anyone behind us, or have you shot them all to pieces?"

"You act like I do that to everybody."

"Don't you?" he asked innocently as Alex leaned back to whack the back of his head. "Ouch."

"I haven't shot you yet."

"Yet?"

"Yet."

"That's reassuring."

"It wasn't meant to be."

"You're so mean. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

Fingering the trigger of his Sig, he watched the flaming wreckage crash into the side of the road. One time not long ago, he might have tried to rescue the gunner and pilot. Whatever mercy he had harbored at the time had been lost somewhere along the road as those he saved came to attack him again. He couldn't even remember when that naïve part of him had died, but any mercy left had disappeared with it. "I dunno. Just tired I guess."

Ben glanced back again. He was going to be talking with Eagle about this when he got back. Eagle's brother was a psych major, and maybe he could explain Alex's behavior.

The teenager had been more…out of it lately. He knew that Alex had changed after the funeral****, melancholy and retreating more into himself than usual, but now he was almost cold. Only on the rare occasion, like the few times tonight, did he pop out of his mood. Even now as he saw Alex watching the road and skies behind them in his rearview mirror, the teen spy would sigh and get that faraway look in his eyes, like he was seeing more than just the vista.

He briefly considered the news of Blunt's 'retirement', but dismissed it. The prime minister and MI5, especially with Jones gaining power, would never let a sixteen-year old become head of MI6 despite how good he was and the experience he had. The government wouldn't be able to handle the scandal that would doubtlessly result.

It was quiet as the only sound on the road was that of the motor. "Did you patch up your hand?"

"What?"

"When you shoved my head down, some of the blood splattered on my shirt. Clean it up before it gets infected."

Alex looked at his right hand, which he had already noticed had resumed shaking, only just now realizing that the blood dripping down his fingers and wrist was his own. He tore a strip off the bottom of his thin shirt, wrapping it tightly around the rather shallow gash. "It isn't that bad anyway."

"Doesn't mean it can't cause problems for you later."

The shaking subsided as he relaxed his grip on the trigger, letting it droop on to the seat but still keeping it aimed straight where the last pursuing vehicles had appeared.

"Turn left at the next fork," he spoke up. "The docks are fifteen minutes going straight down that way."

"Yeah, but I'm hoping that speck over there," Ben pointed one hand to the western sky as Alex followed his finger, straining his eyes, "is someone friendly coming to drag our asses back to HQ."

"We can hope. Keep heading to the docks, though, just in case."

"I figured you'd say as much," he sighed.

To the relief of both spies, the incoming chopper flashed a friendly signal before setting down on the empty road in front of them. To their immense surprise, the pilot waving at them was Falcon.

"What are the chances that I'd see you again?" he shouted over the propellers.

Ben pushed the bike in after Alex, who pulled it in the rest of the way and laid it in the back of the cargo bay. "What are you doing this far east?" Ben asked their pilot once the doors were closed and everyone could at least somewhat hear each other without yelling.

"I've had a pilot's license since I was eighteen, and MI6 said they wanted someone who already knew you guys to respond if you needed backup. Apparently I was at the top of their list. The rest of the guys were jealous that I got to go on break earlier than the rest of them."

"Do they know where you are?"

"Not a clue. MI6 said not to tell anyone, the whole secrecy thingy being kind of important. K-Unit just thinks that something came up at home and I won't tell them about it."

"MI6 is like that," Alex said wryly, and immediately raised the suspicion levels for Ben.

"Who exactly did you talk to from MI6?"

"I have no idea. He had kind of a French accent, though kinda youngish. Sort of like your friend there. Who is that, anyway?"

Alex and Ben exchanged a confused look before remembering that none of K-Unit had seen him since the funeral.

Ben smacked himself in the head and Alex keeled over laughing.

"Am I missing something?"

"We just forgot that you hadn't seen Alex in awhile."

Falcon almost turned around. "What? Hell Alex, that's the best disguise I've seen so far. You've got the voice down too."

"It's not a disguise, Falcon. Smithers wanted to make it look as if I had really died of cancer like my file says, so he messed with some pieces of my DNA to change my appearance and voice. My name's James Bertrand, in a legal sense, now."

Falcon whistled. "That's one way of committing yourself to the world of espionage. I doubt anyone's going to recognize you at all, especially SCORPIA. They'll be looking for a dead man before they realize what you've managed. Little extreme though, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but I have my reasons."

Both Ben and Falcon had to pause at that. There was something more to that statement than they could see on the surface.

"Well this beats weeks in the basement of a ship," Ben remarked brightly. "I can already tell that my week's off to a great start."

"Yeah…about that," Alex coughed.

"Oh no."

"Well you remember how we crossed over to Bangkok from Delhi when we hopped from that other mission to this one?"

"Yeah…"

"Well no one's at the office to do the paperwork right now. Most of them were on holiday last week and this week, Grace and Joshua are out on assignment, and the rest are swamped in their own work."

"Damn. Maybe we should've taken the boat."

* * *

A/N: I woke up yesterday morning and thought, "I know how my arc is going to end." For anyone who hasn't seen my profile, the one after this, _Façade_, is going to be the last one in this arc. I'll go back to working on my crossover and then I'm open to suggestions. I might even look into writing for some other books and mangas I love, including the Dresden Files and FMA (which is more my sister's realm).

I love writing for Alex Rider, but I want something new. Thanks for following me so long, and the last one shouldn't be long in its release.

Note: This still has ONE MORE CHAPTER! It will be shorter, but have a huge cliffhanger to smooth the transition to _Façade_.

* Let's just say that Smithers is a genius. For anyone who doesn't know, a seventeen is like a Remington or HMR and a fifty is a Desert Eagle or Browning. Basically, it shoots anything less than autocannon ammo, which would be hard to get in any sort of handgun…

** This refers to Edgar Allen Poe's _The Raven_, the joke being that the raven in the poem brings ill tidings.

*** Goes back to _Safehouse_.

**** Parts one and two of Poison are _before_ the funeral; parts three and four are _after_.


	4. Chapter 4

Part four and the epilogue of _Poison_. Sorry about the end in advance, but the arc will continue into my last story in the _Safehouse_ arc. Thanks for following this story to the end and I hope you enjoy my last installation, _Façade_. ~ SamayouTamashi

* * *

Ben was scouring the halls of the MI6 headquarters in London, searching for coffee. Bruise-like bags were under his eyes, marking the hours he had been up working on his paperwork, the worst part of being a spy. Where had that damned coffee machine been moved to?

From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of black and turned to get a better look.

Alex had completely abandoned him on the paperwork, and he hadn't seen him since getting back. However, he doubted it was the massive paper stacks in their offices that had driven him off. He'd been twitchy the entire flight back.

Now he could see his partner standing in Blunt's office, nervously moving from side to side and constantly fiddling with his shirt. Ben scooted further back to see Blunt, who seemed to be just as tense. His face was completely calm, but his fingers were flicking a thin pen between them over and over. What were they talking about? Neither of these people would be nervous in front of a _shooting squad_.

Moving towards the head's office, a stack of papers in one hand as if he had a legitimate purpose for being over here, he could hear some sound filtering through the slightly open door.

"It couldn't…suspicious…wouldn't work…" From Alex's words, it sounded like a mission that he was unsure about taking.

"I…can't…need to…not long…" But what was Blunt talking about? It sounded more personal than just another mission.

He sidled closer to the door, getting only somewhat better sound, but with still no idea about what the conversation was about. Alex seemed to be reluctant, but somewhat willing nonetheless.

"I could see if…better cover…couldn't be…"

"Could get…maybe if…might be difficult…"

Blunt's receptionist had a curious look on her face at his sneaking around, but shrugged as he put a finger over his mouth. He pressed his ear to the door.

"Maybe if Smithers could fix something up it would work. There're too many people who know me," Alex was saying. But wait, hadn't the point of messing with his DNA been to change his identity? How many people could really know him now?

"We can't do more than we already have," Blunt was stressing. "It would have to be done delicately and differently, and no one would ever see you."

"There would be questions. Lots of them."

"I understand, and Smithers is working on something new for you to test out."

Ben leaned back, intending to continue searching for caffeine, when the next words caught his ear.

"I'd have to die. Completely and truly this time."

The spy leaned back in. What was he talking about? Did he mean that he had to die for real or as an act again? Either way it sounded unbelievable. What _was_ this mission they were talking about?

"I can arrange it. It would be simple and fast, I swear."

"I… understand, I think. I just really didn't want to have to do this so early. I knew it would happen, but I didn't think I'd be so young."

"You knew it would happen eventually, though."

"True." He sighed, the sigh of defeat and acceptance. Ben couldn't see in, but Alex sounded so young all of a sudden. "How will we manage this with only the two of us managing it?"

"Smithers is doing most of the work, and he's had the strategy laid out for some time now, should you ever need to go about things in this way."

"Even Smithers? I really couldn't have turned this down, could I?"

"You could have, but eventually we would have managed to work it out, even without you knowing."

Ben backed away as the conversation seemed to be winding down to a close, ruffling the papers to make it look like he was busy and calming his expression as if he hadn't just had the fright of his life. Alex left the office, not even noticing Ben, as he walked back to his own room.

Blunt noticed him waiting and waved him in. "I presume this is about the mission papers?"

"Yeah, there were some of these costs that weren't right. The flight from Delhi to Bangkok has three too many zeroes, and there's a similar problem with the food costs in Zurich."

"It can be easily fixed. Over in finance, Lucas can help alter the records. He's just down the hall and fourth on the left." A wave of the hand dismissed him.

Ben nodded and strode back out of the room, closing the door as he left and letting out a quiet sigh of relief. There were a few issues with the numbers, but not as bad as he had made it seem. To keep up appearances, he dropped the faulty papers down at Lucas's desk and proceeded to look for the coffee machine with thoughts running rampant through his head. He noticed his partner searching for something in his desk, and something dull and silver appeared from a locked drawer. Before he could look closer, the brief flash was gone.

Alex appeared again, looking unusually ruffled, but this time he managed to look up. "Oh, Ben. I haven't seen you in awhile. Where are you going?"

"Coffee machine. Someone relocated it while we were gone, and I've been searching for it ever since."

"I think I passed it at some point. I can show you."

They were quiet as Alex opened the elevator and both of them stepped in. "First floor?" Ben asked as he pressed the lowest button.

"Yeah, I've got some errands to run for Blunt while the day is still young and I think the coffee machine might be next to the receptionist's desk down there."

"Oh."

The quiet ding of the elevator told them the doors were opening, and they walked into the lobby. "Ben?"

"Hmm?" He started the coffee machine was a flick of his finger, putting his cup under the filter, and looked up as Alex looked away.

"I…Don't let them call me princess." He spun on his heel and headed for the door.

Ben was trying to register his words as he followed after him, wanting to see where Blunt was sending him off to. He ran when he saw a beam of light glance off steel from a window across the street. Everything was clicking together. Alex's mood, the meeting with Blunt, the strange request, even his behavior at his 'funeral' when he'd stared strangely at the casket was all fitting together. Whatever this was, it had been planned with his knowledge and assistance for some reason, and he was fully intending to walk out there and get himself killed.

* * *

Alex pulled open the door and turned at the curb, hearing his name called. Probably Ben. He always was too smart for his own good. Without looking around, he could already sense the sniper lining up the shot.

From his pocket he pulled out two sets of dog tags, flipping them upside down to read the names. Would his father and uncle have been proud of him for following in their footsteps, or disappointed that he hadn't been able to escape their similar fates?

Fingering the thin metal, he walked two feet and hesitated at the side of a burgundy car, hearing his partner shout his name again. Over this way, fewer people would be in the way and less likely to become victims as well. When he turned his head to look over at Ben, he unconsciously flinched his glance away from the sniper's window. He met Ben's eyes as he felt something slam into his shoulder.

* * *

Ben met Alex's eyes just as the sniper took his shot. The eyes he met were alien on the teenager, warm and welcoming unlike the façade he had always put up. Only in the end had he been able to take off his mask. When the bullet hit his shoulder, he stumbled back a step, trying to catch his breath. The second one hit only seconds after the first. Alex pressed his fingers lightly against his chest over the mortal wound before finally falling back against the sidewalk, blankly watching the ever-present clouds above him.

Despite having the moments of forewarning, Ben still felt the dagger hit his heart just as hard while he watched his seemingly-undefeatable partner fall. It was only after Alex coughed that he ran to kneel beside him. The sniper had screwed a silencer on to the end, so as not to concern nearby pedestrians. "Don't tell me this was another part of your plans, Alex," he said angrily, tears springing from his eyes. "This was just another assassination attempt, right?"

The teenager smiled up at his partner, a rare happy one and not the cynical one tainted by two years of thankless, dangerous and dirty work. "I did what needed to be done."

"What have you done? Why? How could—?"

Alex put a quivering hand over Ben's lips. "Things aren't what they seem, Ben," he whispered. "I'll see you again." With a weak sigh, his hand fell to the pavement. His amber eyes stared into the distance, the cloudy haze of death beginning to cover them.

Ben cried silently as he closed the unseeing eyes.

* * *

A/N: **Please don't kill me!** Despite how bad it seems, there is another story coming called _Façade_. Many questions are left unanswered in this really, really, really short ending to _Poison_ that I left unanswered for good reasons. I know it looks like I ended it in a short blunt way, but it's more complex than you think. Originally, I was going to start my next story with this as the prologue, but it felt more proper to put it here.

Once again…_please don't run after me with those pitchforks_!

~~ Review, but please don't flame. If I want to roast marshmallows, I have a bonfire pit for that. ~~


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